Retrouvailles
by LordGrimwing
Summary: Retrouvailles: The joy of reuniting with someone after a long separation. Red Alert's come home to visit his adoptive family. Coldstar want's to talk to him about a certain black and white enforcer she met. Takes place after "I'd Like to Thank the Academy".
1. Chapter 1

"So, you see," Red Alert explained, finishing off a rough map of Iacon's outer territories. "The War of the Axils was really much more complex than just a few territories wanting a say in the city proper." He looked over at the green mechling laying next to him.

"Wow." Said Hound, fingers running over all the different lines his older brother made. "That was way better than trying to read the history file! Can't you quit your job with the enforcers and come be my city history teacher?"

"Ha!" The white and red mech laughed, patting his green companion on the helm. "I don't think I could stick to the city's curriculum. Speaking of which, you'd better still read that history pad-even if it is boring. You side your teacher takes quiz questions from that and I'm pretty sure all the stuff we just covered won't be all that pertinent come test day." He smiled when the mechling rolled his blue optics.

"I will." Hound made a pouting face. "But only if you promise to tell me one of those awesome stories about before any cities existed. 'Kay 'Lert?"

"Sure thing little mech." Red Alert ginned at the faux glare Hound sent his way.

"I'm not little." The stout mechling insisted. "I'm bigger than you were at my age! And dad and mom say I'll be bigger than you in a few upgrades."

"That's not really an accomplishment." Red Alert assured. "Most bots don't miss the window for their first few size upgrades." To better illustrate the point, he laid a servo over Hound's. "See." His servo was only about the size of a mechling's still two upgrades away from an adult frame.

"Fine fine. But I'm still not small." Hound reasserted.

"No, you're not." The older mech agreed. "You're average in every conceivable way."

"See, you even admit I'm not sm-Hey!"

On that note, Red Alert stood. "I do believe your carrier wanted us to chat some this evening, and you'd best return to that riveting history file." Laughing at the mechling's miffed expression, he headed for the stairs leading into the main floor.

As expected, Hound's creators, Coldstar and Sniffer, were relaxing in the family room over a game of Skirrid. The correctional officer muttered good naturedly as his bondmate make a high scoring move. Red Alert took a seat on the far end of the couch Coldstar sat on, content in watching the game to its finish.

"Once again, I emerge a head." Coldstar announced, giving Sniffer a consoling shoulder pat. "Same time tomorrow?"

"Sure thing hun." The green and grey mech smiled at his bonded. "I'll win you then."

"Yes, and I'll quit crunching numbers for the station."

Red Alert smiled at the couple's antics as they put the simple game away. Up until that day, years ago, when Coldstar convinced him to have dinner at her home, he'd thought the best bondmates could do was tolerate each other. The worse-well, he'd been too young to clearly recall what life was like when his creators were together, but he supposed they were a decent example of what that looked like.

The Skirrid board was put away in no time and Sniffer bid goodnight to his bondmate; the prison's morning staff held an early morning meeting every tenth day and he'd need to leave in the wee hours to arrive on time. Red Alert tilted his helm in respect to the older mech as he passed, returning the departing pleasantry. As much as he knew Sniffer was a good mech, as much as he'd experienced and benefited from that goodness, the white and red mech still struggled separating sire, exacting obedience, and pain. He understood though. Understanding, kind Sniffer no longer tried pushing the matter, he just took what Red Alert could give and gave back what the younger mech could handle.

When they were the only two in the room, Coldstar returned to her seat beside Red Alert.

"I'm glad you could get time off at such short notice 'Lert." She said, patting his right servo. She'd sent him a message the day before, asking if he could take time off and come home for a few days.

Red Alert smiled, relaxing was easier without Sniffer nearby. "Yeah, well, Slugslinger says he's gonna quit paying overtime if I work more than sixty percent a cycle." The head of technical support at Iacon central knew how to keep things running with a very tight budget.

"Ah, Slugslinger is quite the character." Coldstar reminisced, recalling when she'd met the long-winded jet at a conference. "If you don't mind 'Lert, I'd like to just skip along to why I wanted you to come."

Red Alert nodded, straightening his back. "Of course. What'd you want to talk about?" Pleasantries weren't his favorite thing either.

"I presented at a recruiting conference a few days ago, and happened to bump into a young enforcer named Prowl." She paused.

Red Alert nodded. The conference was held at the Academy. It would have been surprising if she hadn't.

Coldstar raised an optic ridge. With as much has he talked about his childhood friend, she'd have expected Red Alert to give some further reaction. "He watched Hound for me, and when I came back they were talking about you."

The white and red mech twitched at that, nervousness reflected in his optics and field. "R-really?" He'd always been uncomfortable with others talking about him.

"Yes. _Prowl_ was very interested in you, He said he had a childhood friend called Red Alert." She stared meaningfully at him.

"'Kay." The word was hesitant.

"Red Alert, Hound is fairly certain-and I wouldn't disagree-that we met your childhood friend. Prowl's certain of it too." Here she stopped again, optics scrutinizing the mech's shocked face.

Red Alert's mouth worked wordlessly for a few moments before he closed it. Mind racing, he placed his servos over the sensory nubs, pressing against the sides of his helm, as he tried to think. He hadn't seen Prowl is years, not since Firestorm lost the trial and he'd been taken away from everything he knew. The black and white mech wouldn't be the nice youngling he played with at school, or the comforting presence when he had to come to school with the scuffs and dents Firestorm left on him. Prowl was grown now, had his own life, his own friends. He wouldn't want the troubled mechling of his childhood back in his life, the mechling whose carrier abandoned to an abusive mate, the mechling who disappointed his sire, the mechling who no one wanted, the mechling who-

Strong arms encircled him, patting his shaking shoulders. "Red Alert. Relax." Coldstar tucked the trembling mech against her chest, slowly loosening his servos hold from his helm. "It's not something to get worked up over. Just breath."

They sat like that for a while, Red Alert curled against Coldstar while she talked him through venting. When his processor quieted, Red Alert sat up, rolling his shoulders, and stretching stiff fingers. He couldn't remember when he'd started having panic fits, probably not long after youngling services began letting anybot remotely qualified try fostering him. But in the years since Coldstar brought him home, he'd gotten so much better, due both to the stable family and supplements a doctor prescribed.

"You think you met Prowl?" Red Alert swallowed, striving to ignore the tremble in his words. "That he's an enforcer?"

"Yes. He gave Hound his communication number, in case you wanted to get in contact."

Closing blue optics, Red Alert nodded slowly. "I'm going to try talking with him." A few more deep breaths. "Soon."

Coldstar smile. "I think that's a good idea 'Lert. He seems like a mech who could use a friend."


	2. Chapter 2

Red Alert stood anxiously outside Iacon Central City Hall of Records. His servos twitched at his sides, every-so-often raising and rubbing at one of the sensory nubs on his helm. The young mech could just see the edge the sun as it set over well cared for roofs of the housing district. A few patrons of the Hall of Records passed by, most on their way to family and home but a few entering the building. Red Alert tried to pay them as little mind as they spared him, trying to only look for a black and white Praxian frame, but he struggled. He couldn't help but listen to hushed comm line conversations and note which files they checked out and step back if any a mech talked too close.

For three weeks, he'd corresponded with Prowl, slowly working up the courage to ask his long-lost childhood friend if they could meet. Unbeknown to the IT technical support agent, the junior enforcer had found himself in the same boat. Now, Red Alert waited outside the Hall of Records for the officer to get of shift and-hopefully-arive. The nagging voice in his helm insisted Prowl wouldn't, that he didn't really want to reunite.

Street lights popped on one-by-one. Red Alert signed, consigned to wait for someone who wasn't going to show. He should've been used to this by now: someone who cared for him, or once did, or was supposed to, or said they did, deciding he wasn't worth it. His carrier, his sire, the social worker, the foster families. The white and red mech could add Prowl to the list now too. Quietly, he wondered when Hound's family would join.

A smooth transformation sequence caught his attention. Red Alert stared blankly at the black and white mech making his way up the stairs, wishing his own change could occur so fluidly. Missing out on a few youngling upgrades had quite the impact on activating all the right protocols in the right order. Not having anyone explain the whole process until he was almost grown probably just exacerbated it.

"Red Alert?"

Instantly, all his attention was on the mech who'd been climbing the stairs. In Red Alert's moment of distraction, the stranger had gotten so much closer, now only a few paces away.

"What do y-"

A red chevron stood out prominently on the black and white mech's forehelm. Two sensory wings fanned out over his shoulders.

"Prowl?"

"Red Alert!" The taller mech sprung forward, catching his childhood friend in a strong embrace. It happened so quickly, Red Alert didn't even think of shying away. "I can hardly believe-after all this time-finally." Prowl settled on, clutching the shorter mech, as one who expected something dearly loved to be taken at any moment.

"P-Prowl." Red Alert reiterated. "You came." The words fell lightly, barely escaping from his mouth. Slowly, cautiously, he returned the embrace, fingers unsure of what to do as they reached around fluttering wings. "I didn't think you really wanted . . ."

"Oh Red." Prowl smiled down at his friend, heedless of the odd looks passersby shot them. "I've been trying to find you for so long. Nothing could stop me from coming. Nothing."

"Perhaps we should move our conversation inside." Red Alert suggested, frame tensing from the amount of attention Prowl and he were getting per looks and whispered comments. "We're causing a bit of a scene."

Releasing the smaller mech, Prowl threw his arms wide, wings splaying out above his shoulders. "I want them to know-I want everyone to know-I've found you!" But even in his excitement, the mech of Praxian heritage could sense the unease in Red Alert's electromagnetic field. "Let's go inside." The enforcer offered his servo to the IT technical support agent, hoping he'd take it.

An ephemeral smile materialized on Red Alert's lips. Nodding, he gently took the offered hand. They walked slowly into the Hall of Records.

"So . . ." Prowl started, suddenly unsure of what to say to the mech who'd disappeared from his life so long ago. "In one of your letters, you said you're doing IT for the enforcers now. What station?"


End file.
